


Energy Efficiency

by Fistotron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sticky Sex, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fistotron/pseuds/Fistotron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's one fact that everyone knows and it's that Misfire is ridiculously energetic. Fulcrum finds a good outlet for all that enthusiasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Energy Efficiency

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: NC-17; sticky sex.  
> DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are owned by the author, simply written for amusement and the fact that the Scavengers don't receive nearly enough attention as they ought to.  
> NOTE: A giftfic for Owen.  
>  **This was originally posted under AlbaAulbath, which has been moved to this username instead. Same author, different name.**

Well, you couldn't hold it against Misfire for eagerness; that much Fulcrum can count on him for when it comes down to this. It's hard to keep his attention for too long on something, so the fact that they've been at this for this length of time is kind of impressive.

It's also thoroughly exhausting. 

Over him, Misfire bucks harder and harder, clutching at Fulcrum's shoulders as he works his way down on the spike; the K-Classer is being ridden and the motions are coming so quickly and, ah, energetically that it makes it a bit tough to keep up. Still, in return, Fulcrum is thrusting up into the other Decepticon, grunting as Misfire rolls his hips relentlessly.

"Just big enough, yeah?" Misfire murmurs with a soft laugh, because he has a hard time shutting up even now. "I think this is a pleasant surprise-- _mm!_ Y'know how most other 'Cons are, just kind of a hard _in-out_ and _see you later_ , not really all that fun. _Right there_ , that's it. You're kind of a thoughtful guy, a real terrible Decepticon _ahh._ "

Talking is an enormous distraction for him. Fulcrum is sincerely tempted to tell him to shut up, but he already knows that doesn't work. With a some renewed determination, Fulcrum brings his hips up more sharply, earning a nice little yelp from Misfire. Fulcrum grins faintly. There, that's more like it. He just needs to keep it to a consistent pace. He grips tightly onto Misfire's hips, grinding up, making keeping it fast--

Misfire is babbling something nonsensical and hits overload, twitching and valve spasming nicely over Fulcrum's spike. The smaller Decepticon groans and gives a final jerk before he spills himself inside of the jet.

There's finally a quiet moment where Misfire slumps forward on top of him and just lets his vents cycle. It's nice for the time being, just letting his spike settle in somewhere moist and warm and clinging tight. No movement, just this.

Then Misfire is shifting his hips again.

"Oh, c'mon--" Fulcrum starts, then groans, leaning his head back as his friend starts to grind over him again. "Again?!"

"Yeah, again!" Misfire grins broadly. "What, are you tired already?"

"I just..." There's a heavy sigh from the K-Class Decepticon, trying to grab onto Misfire's hips to slow him down. " _Easy._ Us normal mechs need a few more minutes, all right?"

Pretty clearly, the circuit speeders or whatever that's hyped up Misfire a bit more than is typical for him has affected more than his attention span. His recovery is _ridiculous_ , too. He usually overloads pretty early on, but he picks himself back up pretty slagging fast. Fulcrum lets his head thump against the floor. Seriously, does anything wear him down?

"All right, fiiiine. So you need to work yourself back up to it." Misfire pauses, then snorts. "Heh. _Up to it._ "

"Yeah, really funny-- _ack!_ " Fulcrum flinches as Misfire suddenly lifts himself off of his depressurizing spike.

Scooting himself back, the jet is sitting so that he as his legs spread out in an extremely relaxed position in a way that shows how completely uncaring he is of how much lubricant and fluid is trickling out of him and onto the floor. It leaves his valve exposed and ready for observing, which forces Fulcrum to lean up onto his elbows to peer down towards the jet.

There's a sensitive shudder burning through his circuitry as he watches Misfire slide in two fingers without any problem into his valve. From this angle, he can clearly see the way the outer lips are spread, stretched over the digits, and the lubricants still dribbling out as Misfire eagerly thrusts into himself. The sheer enthusiasm that Misfire has just doesn't dissipate and it's both endearing and tiring. 

And before Fulcrum can help himself, it's also intensely arousing.

He groans and feels his spike pressurize again, throbbing with interest. Fulcrum had overloaded twice already, and he really has no idea how many times _Misfire_ has come and gone, and it doesn't matter because he squirms as he peers at Misfire curling fingers in and out of his valve.

Aw frag.

"There you go, loser." Despite the sort-of-insult-but-also-kinda-nickname, it's sort of endearing, because really Fulcrum's just used to Misfire's mannerisms at this point. The jet pulls his fingers free and scoots himself closer, but he isn't climbing on top.

No, not this time. Instead, he gestures Fulcrum closer.

That earns a small groan. Not that Fulcrum _doesn't_ want to 'face again, but he's starting to realize that doing this semi-regularly is going to be exhausting.

A small sigh escapes him and Fulcrum forces himself up. He squirms around so he can get onto his hands and knees, slowly approaching and trying to ignore the slight twitch of the arousal between his thighs. Lifting up his legs eagerly, Misfire hugs them around Fulcrum's waist and yanks him in closer, earning a surprised squeak from the K-Con. He almost ends up falling on top of the jet, but Fulcrum catches himself, just inches in front of Misfire's smug face and his spike pressing against the energetic jet's abdomen.

"Oh ho, I can feel that," Misfire teases, grinning broadly.

" _Shut up_ ," Fulcrum grumbles. 

It takes him just a moment to adjust and realign himself so that he can properly slip inside again. There's a sigh from both of them as Fulcrum just pushes in once and he's completely inside already, noting how Misfire's valve is pressing flush against the base of his spike. He can still feel how well lubricated it is after overloading _twice_ in him, so it's no struggle to go in now. Fulcrum draws his hips back and gives another thrust, grunting quietly; that's definitely a smoother motion, and he finds he likes just how _slick_ it is.

And it seems Misfire's all too glad as well, unabashedly groaning and hugging Fulcrum's hips more tightly with his legs. 

Rolling his hips into the jet feels like hardly any effort now. It does kind of come with the wet noise of their previous, uh, interactions together. Something that he's pretty sure Misfire is more than okay with what with the way he hums and squirms his way up to meet Fulcrum part of the way, creating _more_ sound as a result. It's smooth and pleasant and he sighs knowing when Misfire is starting to get close already with him babbling again.

" _There_ we go, getting closer! But you can go harder, you know that-- _ah, there!_ I know I know you're not a real rough _sort_ , mm, but don't be shy now. That's good, like that loser, _ngh!_ "

Not very long at all. Not a surprise, either, when it happens. Fulcrum buries his face against Misfire's shoulder as he feels the valve clutch at him, squeezing as the other Decepticon overloads. Usually he can keep going, but Fulcrum's been unwound twice now. He just sighs and lets go, bucking a few more times before spurting a third round inside of Misfire, quivering against him.

A quiet moment actually passes, which amazes Fulcrum. Misfire, quiet? He's not broken, is he? But it's nice to just listen to both of them vent out hot air, try to pull in cool. 

That's got to do it.

Right. Wishful thinking. Misfire hugs his hips tight again, rolling against him.

" _Ack!_ Hey, what did I just tell you?!" Fulcrum smacks his shoulder. "Ugh, I really... Misfire, I'm worn out."

There's an impatient whine from Misfire. The jet has his lower lip sticking out in a pout that's almost horrendously adorable. Not that it'll get Fulcrum to concede. He really is just out of energy to keep up with him, otherwise he'd just agree to go again. 

Fortunately, Misfire finally lets him go, legs sliding away from his hips. "All right, you big loser. Fine, lemme just get you onto your back. I'll take care of it."

Take care of what now? A dubious look is given to Misfire, but Fulcrum doesn't argue. He hisses softly when he draws his hips back, sliding out from that overly slick valve of his. Abruptly, Misfire presses him back to the floor, shoving their mouths together. Briefly, the K-Con squirms under him before he returns the kiss with a sigh, opening his mouth and letting Misfire do all the work. A tongue slips inside, tasting Fulcrum's mouth inside and out. The fact that Misfire has a slight obsession with tasting things so enthusiastically isn't a real big surprise to him, and Fulcrum patiently accepts the attention.

Quick and eager hands run down his body, the tips catching into crevices and seams. _Shy_ or _pacing_ are apparently not words uploaded into Misfire's processor, which is particularly evident with the hands smoothing over Fulcrum's plating. One gropes for the former technician's aft, causing him to squeak and jerk under the jet. Misfire laughs into Fulcrum's mouth, nipping his lower lip as he continues touching him. Both hands are sliding up the insides of his thighs, thumbs stroking over where his leg meets hip; dipping inside of the joint there, Misfire seeks and finds wires, pinching and tweaking them. It feels like electricity is suddenly racing through his body and Fulcrum gives a muffled yelp, his hips jerking and yellow optics flashing.

Their mouths part finally, leaving Fulcrum venting and gasping as Misfire continues to work away. While he wishes he could return the favor, the ache and exhaustion in his joints remind him that, oh yeah, he's been doing nothing but fragging Misfire for the past couple of hours anyway. Why not let Misfire do all the work? A sigh escapes and Fulcrum tips his head back against the floor. Taking that as an invitation, Misfire mouths away at his neck, chuckling into his auditory sensor.

There's a loud gasp as fingertips stroke over the outside of Fulcrum's valve. He quivers, a hand tiredly grabbing for Misfire's shoulder. The grip is so lax and tired that he can barely hold on. Misfire gives a _tsk_ and pushes the hand off.

"You're okay," the jet reassures with a sharp smile. His index finger traces the outside of Fulcrum's valve. "Yeah? I said I'd take care of it. I like you 'facing me and all, but I wanna use my spike this round."

" _Uh_ ," Fulcrum exhales abruptly, shifting a little at the feeling of the fingertip prodding his entrance. Pit, that should _not_ make him lubricate, but it does. "S'fine."

A soft, amused chuckle emits from Misfire as he finally slides his finger inside. It's just _one finger_ but Fulcrum is already shuddering a little, feeling how the other Decepticon is wriggling it inside, feeling him up, trying to touch every single sensor node that he can. "Well, somebody's all wet and ready for me," Misfire teases, nuzzling into the K-Con's neck. "Good. Having a hard time holding myself back."

"This is your idea of _mm._ Of holding back?" Fulcrum asks wryly.

Another finger presses in, curling and thrusting inside of the slimmer Decepticon, forcing another squeak of surprise out of him. "Oh, quiet you." Misfire sniffs a little. "Can't help it if I just wanna frag you into the floor, okay? Especially with the kinds of sounds _you_ make."

"Gee thanks-- _ah!_ " The yelp is drawn out of Fulcrum at the way one of the nodes is relentlessly prodded at by both fingers. 

"What was that? Who makes the best sounds?" Misfire grins broadly.

"Shut _up!_ " A tired buck of Fulcrum's hips is made. A more pleading moan emits and it does eventually occur to him how much of an effort Misfire really is giving here by taking his time in his own way. It's still eager and hopeful and trying to move things along quickly, but Misfire really _is_ trying. The fingers scissor apart and Fulcrum yelps, his own hands pawing uselessly at Misfire's shoulders. 

"Yeah, _you_ do," Misfire continues to tease.

When Misfire pulls his fingers away, the jet shifts a little, grabbing onto Fulcrum's narrow hips and lifting them up slightly. There's a quiet whimper from the K-Con as he feels the head of the other Decepticon's spike press up against his valve. It's warm and ready and _frag_ he's tired but he knows how much he wants this now. He wants Misfire to do this _badly._

Fortunately, Misfire's impatience is something that Fulcrum can count on as the spike finally presses in. There's a loud gasp from the K-Con, his optics shutting off briefly as he just concentrates on the feeling of the warm member filling him, stretching him out. It's not as if Misfire's the biggest he's ever had, but it's a good size. There's just a brief pause of consideration from Misfire, and he pulls his hips back somewhat. The overly energetic jet starts to manhandle Fulcrum, groping for his thighs and placing each knee over his shoulders. Seemingly satisfied, Misfire returns to rolling his hips forward, spike sliding inside of Fulcrum.

"There we are," Misfire murmurs, hints of laughter chasing his tone as he rocks his way in and out. "Just what I thought! You're plenty flexible."

Whereas talking is a thoughtless matter for the jet, Fulcrum can't seem to gather his thoughts in order to say anything particularly witty back. At the next thrust that Misfire gives, Fulcrum opens his mouth and all he can bear to say is, " _Uhn._ "

"Eloquent conversationalist," Misfire remarks, practically giggling against Fulcrum's neck. "You feel _good_ , you know that? Spike or valve, this is fantastic _mm._ Nice and tight and _ahhh._ "

It's a sigh of absolutely relief and satisfaction, and he feels Misfire overloading already, giving a final thrust and releasing inside of Fulcrum. It's hard to be on the brink like this, wanting to finish and not quite meeting Misfire there. It's not the first time, but it's still _hard_ to put up with, especially like this. Fulcrum wiggles under him, not even caring as he whines and trembles. Finally breaking his sense of patience, the K-Con reaches down to try to finish for himself.

Roughly, Misfire pins his wrists down. "Nuh-uh. Naughty naughty, pinhead. I wait for you, you wait for me."

"Misfire," Fulcrum whimpers.

"Just another minute." There's a shallow thrust of Misfire's hips, as if he's getting cozy and comfortable again inside of Fulcrum. "Mm-hmm, there we go. All right."

Even the slightest movement is enough to sent bits of pleasure through Fulcrum, causing him to gasp quietly. It doesn't take long before Misfire starts to drive a little more intensely into him, leaning in to scrape his mouth over the K-Con's throat. Another buck of Misfire's hips and Fulcrum squeals loudly, trembling; he's already weak enough from the last few overloads, making it impossible for him to fight against the grip on his wrists. 

"Good good, just a bit more," Misfire promises as he continues to move. He rearranges his grip, putting Fulcrum's wrists under one hand, allowing his other one to become free. "Want you to make as much noise as _possible._ "

"H-How--" Fulcrum starts, then yelps again when that hand starts to stroke over his spike. " _Misfire!_ "

"That's a great start."

It can't be helped. Misfire's hand definitely knows what it's doing, stroking from base to the tip of Fulcrum's spike. The cries earned causes the jet to shove and pound away into the smaller mech, eager to cause _more_ and see how loud he can make Fulcrum. Teeth nibble and nip at the cords on his neck, tongue licking up his jawline. Fulcrum calls out his name again, body twitching and trembling, trapped under Misfire to be thoroughly touched and stroked and fragged.

"C'mon, louder," Misfire coaxes, kissing him briefly. "You can do louder."

The hand teasing and tweaking his spike pauses, if only to rub the pad of his index finger over the very tip, over the slit.

That earns a shriek of utter pleasure and Fulcrum comes undone, overloading hard. His spike gives its final spurt of the night, splattering between two bodies. At the same time, his valve spasms and clenches, squeezing tightly over Misfire's spike that's still thrusting away into him. As the grip of the valve becomes tighter, Misfire gives his purr of approval and finishes, pressing in one last time, filling Fulcrum again.

Then, abruptly, Misfire flops on top of him, sighing into Fulcrum's auditory sensor, "Oh, I'll have to see if I can get you louder than that yet, loser."

"Uh-huh," is all Fulcrum can think of to say. He's dazed, exhausted, utterly 'faced in and out, and he's silently pleased that Misfire finally seems to be tired now.

-=-=-

There's something horribly wrong and they all know it.

The ship is _quiet_. There's no Misfire bothering each of them with inane questions and topics and complaining of boredom and _are you sure that I can't teach Grimlock to fetch inside the ship pretty please Krok._ The panic almost sets into the rest of them at the same time. 

Krok bursts into the bridge and glances around. "Where the hell is he?"

"Maybe he's dead," Crankcase offers.

"Uh, could you guys keep it down?"

All pairs of optics turn towards Fulcrum, who's leaning tiredly against the doorway. He scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Misfire's asleep and I don't wanna chance him waking up."

"He's... _asleep?_ " Spinister tests those towards together as if it was a scientific impossibility. "He does that?"

"Sure? For the past hour, at least." Fulcrum offers a hesitant smile.

"How'd you--" Krok squints at him. "Never mind. I don't need to know. I'm just glad you found a way to keep him down for awhile. Whatever you did, make sure you do it again in a few days."

"Uh." Fulcrum coughs. "Sure. Will do."

Not awkward in the least.


End file.
